


Slip

by QianLan



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Old Friends, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 23:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12736095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QianLan/pseuds/QianLan
Summary: What if Slip didn't die that night on Jakku, and what if years later, Finn and Poe ran into him?





	Slip

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally [posted on tumblr](https://cha-llamala.tumblr.com/post/164216071038/slip) and is based on a prompt from the wonderful Klyaksa.

 

 

“You’re sulking,” Poe said from the pilot’s seat.

Finn turned and raised an eyebrow.

“I can tell,” Poe said, turning to stare out at the planet coming into view.

“You can’t tell a damn thing, Dameron.”

Poe laughed.  “You’re sulking.

Finn crossed his arms and huffed out a breath.   _So what if I am?_    “Just not a fan of this particular planet,” Finn finally said.

“Yeah, not my fondest memories, either,” Poe said.  “But an order is an order.”

Finn rolled his eyes at that.  “You volunteered for this mission.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t remember holding a blaster to your head forcing you to come,” Poe said, grasping the controls just a bit tighter as they bounced through the atmosphere.

“True,” Finn said, punching buttons.  At this point, he could pilot just about any ship the Resistance threw at him, so co-piloting for Poe wasn’t that rough.   _Well, if you can get past how fussy he is when he pilots._   “Yeah, I guess I could’ve let you come out here alone, but we both know how that would’ve ended.”

“With me tanned and carrying a ton of sand in my shoes?”

Finn shook his head.  “You have a tendency to get yourself into trouble on these little solo assignments.”

Poe made a hurt noise as he started setting the tiny transport down.

“You do!”

“Name one time when—”

“Well, there was that op two months ago, or the one a year ago, or let’s not forget the first time you were here,” Finn said.

Poe grumbled, “Yeah, yeah, but that one turned out okay.”

“Only because a stunningly gorgeous Stormtrooper decided to defect!”

“Stunningly gorgeous?  Really, Finn?”

“What?”

“Stunningly gorgeous,” Poe repeated as the ship set down with a loud clang.  He raised an eyebrow.

“So, I guess the honeymoon is officially over then, huh?”

Poe chuckled.  “Has been over for about six months, dear,” he said, getting up and kissing his husband’s forehead.  “But don’t worry.  I’m going to stay with you for Bee’s sake.”

Finn chuckled and got up, following Poe to the back of the ship.  “You’re trying to take my mind off the fact that we’re back here.”

Poe lowered the ramp and put an arm around Finn’s shoulders.  “Yes, I am.  Is it working?”

Outside, the sun was rising on Nima Outpost.  Sand was swirling at the base of the ramp and all Finn could think about was how parched he’d been the last time he’d been there.  “No,” he said.

Poe hugged him closer.  “Look, we find this informant.  We get the datachip, and then we are gone.”

Finn groaned.  “Wasn’t that almost exactly what was supposed to happen the last time you were here?”

“I seriously doubt that history is going to repeat itself,” Poe said, starting down the ramp.

“Poe, why do you have to tempt the universe like that?”

Poe turned and threw his husband his most charming grin.  He shrugged.  “Just really stupid, I guess.”

Finn groaned again and started down the ramp.

 

**# # # #**

 

Finn tried to ignore the stares.  He knew that Nima Outpost didn’t get many visitors who strayed beyond the small port, but it felt like it did back when he’d joined the Resistance three years ago.  Of course, back then, the attention had been kind of fun.  He’d been a big deal for a while after Starkiller and then a big deal as part of the new power couple Finn-and-Poe, but now, he kind of liked not getting stared at all the time.

“You’re making noises,” Poe said, walking next to him, so close their shoulders were nearly touching.

“Am not,” Finn countered.

“Are too.  Pathetic little angry noises, like a fussy lothcat.”

Finn let that slide—Poe was trying to rile him up, to distract him, and he wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of a response.   _At least, not now._   He was going to remember the lothcat comment for later, though.

Poe turned and Finn seamlessly followed.  Someone had once commented on his and Poe’s “spatial compatibility.”  He remembered Poe had just snorted at the comment, but Finn knew there was something there.  From day one, they’d fit together.  Whether that was running into an embrace or out dancing at a cantina, they both just seemed to know where the other was going to be, and when they were out and about like this, they easily fell into their own special kind of rhythm.  Their bodies flowed well together.  Finn snuck a look at his husband and smiled.

“That’s better,” Poe said.

“Oh shut up, Dameron,” Finn said.

“Never,” Poe chuckled.  He nodded to a non-descript structure in front of them.  “Look right?”

Finn nodded.  The intel had been sketchy, but this place seemed to be where they were supposed to go.  “What’s the guy’s name?”

“No name.  Said he’d know us.”

“Uhhhh,” Finn groaned.  “That sounds like a trap.”

“It’s not a trap,” Poe hissed as they came close to the door.  “At least I hope it’s not a trap.”

“You and me both, dear.”

Poe knocked.

Finn reached to slip the safety off his blaster.

The door opened and an old, wrinkled woman looked out.  She eyed them both up and down and then nodded, opening the door and gesturing for them to come in.

“Oh yeah, that’s not suspicious,” Finn muttered.

Poe shot him a look and bumped his shoulder.

Once inside, it took their eyes a moment to adjust to the low light.  The woman walked on ahead and they slowly followed.

Finn reached for his blaster, resting his hand on it.  “Once again, I want to go on record as saying this is a bad idea.”

“Noted,” Poe said.

The woman pulled back a curtain and gestured for them to go into the next room.  Inside they found a group of seven humans seated around a small table.  They all looked up as Poe and Finn walked inside.

An elderly man stood up and opened his mouth to speak when a younger man stood and said, “Eight-Seven?”

Finn recognized that voice.  It was the voice of a dead man.  He stepped forward and looked and there, sitting at the end of the table was a man with pale skin and hazel eyes.   _A ghost._   Before Finn even registered what was happening, his feet were taking him forward.  “Slip?”

The man laughed.  “Eight-Seven!”  He got up and ran to Finn, hugging him.  “What in the kriff are you doing here?”

“What?”  Finn looked back to Poe with wide eyes and then struggled to find words.  “You were dead, Slip.”  Slip smiled and led Finn to an empty chair.  “But you were dead,” he said as he fell into it.

Poe looked to the older man.  “Seems like they’re old friends.”

“Yes,” the old man said.  “It seems.” His gaze narrowed.  “And how do you two know each other?”

Slip smiled.  “Eight-Seven was a Stormtropper with me.”

Six blasters were suddenly pointed at Poe and Finn.

“Ex-Stormtrooper,” Finn said.  “Ex-Stormtrooper!”

“He hasn’t been a buckethead in three years,” Poe added.

“And how do we know this isn’t some First Order trick,” a woman asked.

“How do we,” Finn asked.

“Yeah, you contacted us, remember?”  Poe slowly started to lower his hands.  “If I can just…”  He gestured towards the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Ar’nahi,” the old man said, nodding to Poe.

A young woman came over and reached in, taking out the flimsi.  It was a copy of the latest bounty on Poe’s and Finn’s heads.

“You just keep that on you,” Finn hissed at his husband.

“What?  It’s cool!”

The woman looked it over and handed it to the old man.  He read it over and nodded to the group.  They lowered their weapons.  “Uh,” Poe said, looking over at Finn, who was still in a state of shock.  “How about you and I talk about the information you have while they get reacquainted?”  The old man nodded and he and Poe disappeared into the next room.

Finn looked over at Slip—and it really was Slip.  He was a bit older and close-up, Finn could see he’d finally gotten some sun, but…  “You were dead,” Finn repeated.

Slip laughed.  “Not really.  Gravely wounded, yes, but not dead.”

Finn shook his head.  It was as if someone had tilted the entire galaxy on its side.  “What happened?”

“A group of scavengers found me and brought me here.  Ar’nahi and her brother, Sal,” he stopped to smile at a tall black-haired man with coal black eyes, “they nursed me back to health and I’ve been living here ever since.”

“Wow,” Finn said.

“But what happened to you?  How did you…”

“I couldn’t kill for them,” Finn said.  “After the village, I was due for re-conditioning, and I decided to break out with a hotshot Resistance pilot instead.”

Slip jerked his head towards the next room.  “Him?”

Finn smiled.  “Yeah.  Poe Dameron.”

“Starkiller Poe Dameron?”

“Yeah.”

“Then that would make you Finn, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Finn said.  It sounded weird on Slip’s tongue.

“Wow,” Slip said.  “We don’t get a lot of news out here, but we heard about that.  But wait.  I heard that…”  He suddenly stood and walked around Finn’s chair.  He bent down, examining Finn’s jacket.  He let out a low hiss.  “Kriff.”

“Oh yeah,” Finn said.  “Got sliced up pretty good by Kylo Ren.”

Slip shook his head.  “I can’t believe you’re still alive.”

“I can’t believe you’re still alive!”

The two of them laughed.

Finn leaned back.  “But, Slip, I…”  He didn’t know how to ask what he wanted to ask.

“Why am I not still gung-ho for the Order?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, being left for dead was a big start, but also, out here…listening to people and…”  Slip shrugged.  “I don’t know.  You start seeing all the damage the Order has done, and when people talk about the Resistance, they don’t sound afraid, you know?”

“Yeah,” Finn said.  “I do.”

Slip looked over at Sal, who gave him a soft smile back.  “Plus,” he blushed, “I figured out that there are better things to be loyal to than the Order.”

Finn let out a small chuckle.  He pulled a chain from around his neck.  It held a single platinum band.  “I might know something about that.”

Slip’s eyes got wide.  “With him?”

Finn nodded.  “He drives me crazy, but…”  He looked toward the other room.  “I’d cross galaxies for him.”

Slip shook his head.  “The Resistance suits you, Eight…Finn.”

Poe emerged from the other room with a datachip in his hand.  “Thank you, sir.  The General will know exactly what to do with this information.”  He slipped it into his pocket and vigorously shook the man’s hand.

Finn rose.  “Poe,” he said.  Poe trotted over.  “I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine, Slip.”

Poe smiled.  “Slip, it’s good to meet you.  I’m Poe.  Poe Dameron.”

“Slip Anchuul,” Slip said.  He nodded and Sal came over.  “And this is my husband, Sal.”

“Good to meet you, Sal,” Poe said.

Finn nodded, “Thanks for taking care of Slip.”  He reached out and shook Sal’s hand.

“No problem,” Sal said in a low booming voice.

The four of them stood there awkwardly—four beings who, but for a twist of fate one night three years earlier, wouldn’t be standing here together—all trying to process what it meant that they were all, in fact, standing here together now.

It was Poe who snapped out of the shared pondering first.  “Ahhh,” he said, turning to Finn.  “I hate to…”

“Oh yeah.  We have to get back to base,” Finn said.  He reached out for Slip’s hand.  “But you’re okay?  You’re good?”

Slip smiled.  “Yeah.  I’m just relieved to know that you got out.  I always figured they were grooming you to become the next Captain Phasma or something.”

Finn frowned a bit.   _They were.  And if everything hadn’t…_   Poe bumped his shoulder into Finn’s.  “Oh, yeah.  I’m just…  It’s amazing that you’re alive, buddy,” Finn said, pumping Slip’s hand up and down and then pulling him into a quick hug.  “And if you ever need anything, you just let us know.”

Slip’s smile grew.  “Will do.”

Finn let go and he and Poe waved to the rest of the group and started out of the house.

 

**# # # #**

 

Neither spoke as they wound through Nima Outpost or when they got to their ship or even when they took off.  When they were well into hyperspace, Poe finally swiveled his chair towards Finn.  “Wanna talk about it?”

“I thought he was  _dead_ , Poe.”

Poe couldn’t help his smile.  “You might have said that a few times back at the house.”

Finn looked up at Poe.  “But you don’t understand.  If Slip doesn’t get shot then…”  He leaned back into his chair.  “I might not have left.”

Poe made an unimpressed noise.  “Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Finn, you couldn’t bring yourself to shoot on innocent civilians at least twice before we met.  I’m pretty sure that Slip surviving that night wasn’t going to suddenly make you a cold-blooded killer.”

Finn shook his head.  “I know you’re right but…  He’s still alive.  What are the odds?”

“What are the odds that a defecting Stormtrooper, who coincidentally thinks I’m cute, is on the same ship as I am when I’m about to get executed and he just happens to need a pilot?”

Finn sighed.  “Probably best not to do the math on that one, either.”

“No,” Poe said.  “If you start thinking about the odds, it’s all over.”

“So, what?  It was fate?”

Poe gave him a lopsided smile.  “Sure.  Fate.  The Force.  Dumb luck?”  He leaned forward, his eyes wide and bright.  “Whatever it is, it’s probably best not to question it.  Just be thankful it brought us together.”

“Like it brought Slip and Sal together.”

Poe laughed.  “Yes, like it brought Slip and Sal together.”  He rose.  “Now, I don’t want to tempt fate or the Force or whatever, but we have,” he stopped to study his instruments, “about four hours before course adjustment, and I believe I have some good ideas about how to spend the time with my husband.”  He wagged his eyebrows.

“Oh,” Finn said, rising.  He walked over until he was practically pressing Poe into the wall.  He leaned in as if he were going to nuzzle Poe’s neck.  “Would this be the same husband who makes noises like a pathetic, angry, fussy little lothcat?”  Finn leaned back and raised an eyebrow.

“Kriff.”  Poe recovered quickly.  “And I believe it was pathetic little angry noises, like a fussy lothcat.”

“Oh yeah, because that makes all the difference,” Finn said, pushing past Poe into the lounge.

“It does!”

“Mmmmm-hmmmmm,” Finn said, eyeing the dejarik board and then nodding to it.

“No,” Poe said.  “You always win!”

“That’s what you get for comparing me to a feline,” Finn said, sitting down at the board.

“But,” Poe pointed towards the bunk.  “We could be…”

“Play,” Finn said.  He gazed at Poe with a devilish look in his eyes.  “If you win a game, I’ll reconsider going to the bunk with you.”

As Poe slid into the seat next to Finn, he grumbled, “Just trying to have a little  _thank the Force we found each other_ sex and he just wants to play dejarik…”

Finn leaned over and kissed the tip of Poe’s nose.  “I love you,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Poe replied.  He shook his head.  “I bet Slip is having some good  _I’m glad we found each other_  sex right now.”

Finn slapped Poe’s arm.  “Well, I bet Sal didn’t compare him to a tiny hissing feline either.”

“Yeah, but did Sal give him a cool leather jacket, huh?  Or a name?”

“Just shut up and play, Dameron,” Finn said with a smile, already planning on losing the first game to his adorably pouting husband.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
